


fang aches and corpuscle deficiency

by attack of the killer himbos (melodramatic_fratboi)



Series: 2 Queer 2 Awakening [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Fluff and Humor, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, formally apologizing to all the characters i borrowed to be halloween costumes, gratuitous use of black clothing, it is mostly just dialogue really, the winchesters look gnc af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 12:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30139314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodramatic_fratboi/pseuds/attack%20of%20the%20killer%20himbos
Summary: not me writing a whole 4.8k+ words of halloween filler in march
Relationships: (mentioned only), Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: 2 Queer 2 Awakening [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2174907
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	fang aches and corpuscle deficiency

**Author's Note:**

> akjskjsk i'm sorry it took me almost three weeks to present y'all with this but i spent a hot minute trying to figure out the costumes (listen ajhshsdjsj ya boy has a habit of obsessing over the wrong thing hshjshs) and this also lets me structure the rest in a way that makes sense in my brain 
> 
> title from [Riboflavin-Flavored, Non-Carbonated, Polyunsaturated Blood by Don Hinson & The Rigamorticians](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-Ueckurv-U)

At the age of sixteen, Charlie had declared that she refused to put up with Dean being a curmudgeon and browbeat him into accompanying her to a double feature showing of Frankenstien and Creature from the Black Lagoon at The Wesley. Sam, forever her sleeper agent, had pouted in Dean’s general direction until he had agreed to let his younger brother come along, because it would be cruel to leave a twelve year old alone on Halloween. With everything in place, it had only made sense for them to buy costumes from Party City, an Ellen Ripley one for Charlie, Ash Williams for Dean and Danny Torrance for Sam.

The only significant change since then was that they no longer wore Party City costumes and Dean had accidentally acquired Charlie’s makeup skills via osmosis.

“Okay, listen, shut up,” Sam begins as they exit a late night showing of Blood and Black Lace. 

He is dressed as Vampira, in a floor length black dress with a plunging neckline, sleeves slashed to resemble hers, the hem split into spidery strips of fabric that trail onto the floor. He has an underbust corset on underneath the dress as well as a belt on top of it, pulling his waist in. The soft velvet of the dress clings to the curves of his body, giving the illusion of an hourglass silhouette. Charlie had done his makeup, gluing down his eyebrows — that itch, just a little bit — to draw on Maila Nurmi’s exaggerated arches, contoured his cheekbones, drawing a beauty spot under his right eye, a grey cut crease, winged eyeliner and dark red lipstick completing the look. He had forgone a wig to part his own hair down the middle and bobby pin the front, fake nails ditched for his own as well, painted black.

“We didn’t even say anything,” Dean injects, reflecting the confusion on Charlie’s face as they weave their way through the crowd of moviegoers exiting the hall. 

He has chosen to dress up as Miriam Blaylock, in a full sleeved black satin dress, cut almost down to his navel with a high slit that leaves his sheer nylon clad legs exposed up to the thigh. He wears a gleaming brass coloured belt around his abdomen, with silver cat eye sunglasses hanging from it, a gold toned crucifix swinging against his sternum, drop earrings, leather gloves with triangular patches of black rhinestoned fabric attached to them and four inch charcoal heels. A black leather side cap is pinned to his gelled back hair. The outer corner of his upper eyelid is darkened with burgundy, the bottom lash line rimmed with a deep, rich wine colour, lips painted oxblood.

While both the brothers are decked out nearly entirely in black, Charlie, as Drusilla, is in shades of red. Her cherry coloured floral lace top is paired with a maroon velvet skirt and ruby heels along with a faux fur trimmed crimson coat, lined with black lace and a dainty double teardrop necklace. She has a forehead prosthetic and neon yellow contacts on to mimic Drusilla’s vampire form, with white foundation, heavily contoured cheeks, eye sockets deepened with brown and neutral peach toned lipstick. Out of the three of them, she is the only one with a wig on, a brunette synthetic one that she has styled into a 90s blowout. Her fangs are currently tucked into the inner pocket of her coat.

Together, in a sea of costumes, the trio look like they fell out of a My Chemical Romance music video.

“Let me finish, Jesus,” Sam continues, miffed. “Neither of you are allowed to make fun of me for this.”

Dean and Charlie light up, like sharks that have smelled a particularly fresh human they can attack.

“No, fuck you, I’m not telling you if you make that face.”

They try and are only marginally successful at tamping their enthusiasm for whatever ribbing fodder they are about to receive.

“Thanks for the effort, guys,” Sam rolls his eyes, holding the door open for them. “So, Celeste is open till 2 a.m. tonight and Gabe wants to see what I look like.”

Both Dean and Charlie turn twin grins towards him, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“We are definitely going there right now,” Charlie announces, pushing Dean to walk faster to the car. “I have to see the weirdos you two dorks managed to snag.”

The half an hour drive it takes them to reach Celeste is spent with Dean and Charlie discussing Bava’s portrayal of torture and violence and the gleefully unrestrained approach to gore taken by _gialli_ of that era, and the influence of Bava’s directorial and visual style on contemporary and later filmmakers. At that point, Sam had interrupted them to call Fulci a hack and then gone back to texting, probably Gabriel, if the grin plastered on his face was any indication.

The bakery is much more crowded than Dean had expected when they reach it, almost all the tables occupied, by people garbed in an array of pop culture references. 

Leaning against the counter Gabriel stands dressed, somehow, in clothes that are entirely… generic? He is wearing a sky blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, a slim navy tie and ill fitting tan chinos with brown loafers, minus socks. The outfit is disconcertingly boring, the neatly brushed back hair makes him look like the kind of fuckboy who would have 'rise and grind' in his Instagram bio.

He glances up at the sound of the bell and then for a minute, his gaze remains focused solely on Sam, raking up and down as a smirk spreads slowly across his lips.

“I think my brain’s malfunctioning,” He says as he meets them in the middle of the room, his hands reaching out to settle at Sam’s waist. “You look fucking unbelievable,” He murmurs.

“Uh, thanks, yeah,” Sam replies, obviously flustered, blushing though it is not visible at the moment. “It’s all, um, Charlie’s work, she did all the makeup and everything,” He gestures towards her with one hand, drawing Gabriel’s attention to them. “She’s very good at these things.”

“Aw, Sammy,” Charlie coos, playful, affectionate, “You’re very sweet but I think he means you look hot for other reasons too.”

Gabriel turns himself and Sam to face the other two, one palm resting just below the younger man’s ribs. “You’re not wrong,” He shrugs. “The makeup is excellent, you’re extremely talented but yeah, there are definitely other reasons as well,” He pulls Sam close, sliding a finger underneath the belt around his middle. “All three of you look incredible. My brother’s gonna fucking die when he sees you, Dean-o.”

“Are you dressed as a trust fund hetero?” Charlie asks before Dean can get a question in about where said brother might be.

“They are my only fear,” Gabriel states, laughing in delight.

“The fact that you’re wearing shoes without socks genuinely terrifies me,” Sam comments, his face creasing into a grimace.

“Yeah, I’ll be soaking my feet in lava later tonight,” Gabriel scuffs the toe of one loafer against the ground. “But,” He adds, cheerfully, “none of that matters right now because you three are walking around looking like a mall goth’s wet dream and I need to go call my siblings so that they can come see.”

He reluctantly lets go of Sam, letting them know that he will be right back and vanishes behind the kitchen door.

“I think you’ve managed to hit one of his kinks, Sam,” Charlie remarks, waggling an eyebrow.

“I don’t think it’s just his kinks Sam’s hitting right now,” Dean says, gesturing towards a group sitting at a table to their left who have not taken their eyes off his brother.

Sam darts a peek towards them, prompting one of the members, who is dressed as HIM from the Powerpuff Girls to throw a grin and a peace sign up at him. He smiles, shy, self-conscious, his flush trying its damndest to show through on his skin.

“You’re saying that like you two haven’t been getting eye fucked all evening,” He mutters.

“R.I.P to the concessions stand dude who gave Charlie his number,” Dean snorts.

“Beyond upsetting that men still think they are my target audience,” Charlie grumbles.

Dean slides a comforting arm around her shoulders. “It’s because they are garbage.” 

At this point, Gabriel walks into the room, dragging Castiel in by his wrist while Meg follows with an amused expression on her face.

“Holy fuck!” Castiel exclaims as he approaches them. “Sam, look at you! Give me a three-sixty.” 

Gabriel holds out one hand for Sam to use to steady himself as he spins around, the train swishing along the floor. 

“I don’t even understand how Gabe’s still coherent.” Cas remarks.

“I don’t think I am, actually,” Gabriel interjects and the crimson spreads all the way down to Sam’s chest.

He stutters out another thank you and is rewarded by Gabriel slipping his hold down to a velvet clad hip.

“I won’t even snark you out, you guys look so cool,” Meg says. “I never forgave them for what they did to Tara,” She adds, nodding towards Charlie.

“Neither have I. Killing Tara off was a hate crime.” Charlie declares, emphatically, in accordance.

Meg agrees solemnly.

“I don’t think I can acknowledge Dean without losing my last few brain cells,” Cas mentions, putting Dean at the centre of everyone’s attention.

“It’s the stockings, isn’t it?” Meg teases. “Clarence has no idea who you are dressed as, by the way.”

“Shut up, don’t expose me like that,” Cas protests. He gives Dean a deliberate once-over, not bothering to hide the way his eyes linger over his form, from his legs, to the bare flash of his chest, up his throat, to his lips, blue eyes finally meeting green ones. “I’m regretting some of the things I didn’t do last night.”

Dean, who would have smirked and preened if this had been anyone else, rivals the flush his brother has been sporting, flustered by the heat in Castiel’s gaze that is making his stomach tense.

“I’m Catherine Deneuve’s character from The Hunger. She played a vampire called Miriam,” Dean says, trying to reel his neurons away from sending all of their impulses directly to his dick.

“You can tell me about it in a minute if y’all are planning on staying for a little while. We’re open for like another hour or so.” 

Dean turns to Charlie in a silent question.

“Sure, I don’t mind,” Charlie replies. 

“Do you want any food?” Meg asks “We’re almost done closing the kitchen we can sneak something out for you.” 

Charlie takes a moment to consider, full as they are on dinner and movie theatre popcorn and beer. “Do you have any ice cream?” She comes out with.

“Vanilla and a vegan dark chocolate raspberry one,” Cas answers.

“Yeah, get me a double scoop of the chocolate one.”

“Dean?” Meg raises an eyebrow at him.

“Same.”

“Okay, go have a seat.”

Sam hesitates, making eye contact with Dean and Charlie as he shifts closer to Gabriel. “Uh-”

“Not you, genius. Go flirt and be gross,” Dean waves him off, turning around, linking his fingers with Charlie as they go to an empty table near the back.

“See you in a second,” Meg calls out, heading to the kitchen with Castiel.

“So,” Charlie smirks, settling in her chair.

Dean takes the seat beside her, leaving the other two open. He toes his shoes off and unbends his legs, flexing his feet.

“Fuck,” He groans, exhaling loudly. “I’m getting too old for late nights.”

Charlie leans forward, angling her body towards Dean, placing her forehead on his shoulder. She hums in agreement. 

For a while they sit in silence, the low din of voices thrumming around them, a song Dean does not recognise playing softly in the background.

It has been a long day, a long few days, good ones, for once and heady exhaustion is lulling Dean to drowsiness, sinking into his limbs.

“Do you think this counts as incest?” Charlie asks abruptly, yanking Dean back to startled wakefulness.

“What the fuck.” There goes the tiny nap he could have taken.

“They’re brothers and so are you,” Charlie shrugs.

Dean flicks her ear. “You suck. I can’t believe we’ve been friends for this long.”

“Okay but am I even wrong?” She flicks his ear back.

“You have a fundamental misunderstanding of what incest is,” He tries to retaliate but Charlie grabs his wrist and pulls it into her lap.

“I think the boy you have a crush on is very cute, Dean,” She says with a teasing lilt.

They had already discussed his previous night during lunch, Charlie razzing him for insisting that it was not a date, outright laughing in vindication when he told her about getting bullied about being a grilled cheese purist, and then patting him in mock sympathy for ending up with a lapful of hot baker, just not in the way he would have wanted.

“I don’t think I’m quite at crush yet,” Dean maintains, just as he had that afternoon. He takes his gloves off and stretches his fingers, the air blessedly cool on his palms.

“Would have fucked him already if you weren’t.”

“Sam’s the one with the crush,” He continues, defiant (and lying to himself).

Charlie lifts her head to observe the man in question, who is sitting on the counter in front of Gabriel with a drink in his hand, immersed in conversation. Gabriel’s on his stool, one hand having taken permanent residence at Sam’s waist.

“Bet you ten dollars he isn’t coming back with us tonight,” Charlie smiles at the way Sam wrinkles his nose at something Gabriel tells him and then throws his head back, laughing.

“That’s too easy a gamble.”

“Y’know, I always thought you’d be the one who goes for an older dude, what with your daddy issues,” She plants her elbow on the table, supporting her chin on her palm.

“Are you implying Sam doesn’t have daddy issues?” Dean huffs, rolling his eyes at the way his brother, unsubtly, has both legs hanging between Gabriel’s spread thighs.

“Yours are way more intense.”

“True.”

They are joined by Castiel and Meg about twenty minutes or so later, as most of the other tables have begun to empty, leaving behind only a couple of college-aged kids in Velma and Daphne costumes, who are definitely on a very successful date and another group, all of whom are dressed as Studio Ghibli characters (an extremely pretty Howl had shot a double finger gun Dean’s way on their way to the restrooms, which he had returned in kind).

“Gabe’s smitten,” Cas notes as he sits down opposite Dean, placing two ice cream bowls on the table, while Meg carries two more.

“I don’t think Sam’s far off,” Charlie says, exchanging her bowl with Dean’s.

Meg takes a spoonful and holds it up in the air, pointing it at two opposite her. “You should have seen them yesterday. I thought they were going to pull a Mary Shelley and fuck right there on one of the graves.”

“Please don’t give me more details about how badly your brother wants to bone mine,” Dean complains. He steals his ice cream back from Charlie.

“Yeah, it’s bad enough that they look like they’re going to defile the counter right now,” Cas says with an exaggerated shudder. “Tell me about your costume.”

Dean digs into the dessert and for a glorious moment, it is just him and the richness of dark chocolate coupled with the tartness of raspberry, with a mellow hit of coconut dancing on his tongue. 

“Did you make this?” He asks when his brain is back in the mortal plane.

“Meg did,” Castiel replies, eating a bite of his own. “It makes my soul weep with how good it is.”

“Fucking same,” Charlie concurs.

“You’re all very welcome,” Meg responds with a cocky grin.

The Ghibli kids get up to leave, waving to and wishing the owners a good night.

“I don’t know what you are but you look beautiful,” The one dressed as Howl calls out, looking at Dean as their group is at the door.

“Thank you and look up The Hunger. Your Howl’s really great too,” Dean returns with a half-smirk that makes the Howl stumble over their thanks.

Dean gives them a final wave as they go, shutting the door behind them with a ring of the bell.

Velma and Daphne remain, hands almost touching on the table, heads bowed close together.

Gabriel shoots a look of inquiry over to his siblings. Meg shakes her head in reply.

“Okay, now I feel less uncool for not knowing about the movie,” Cas expresses, words coming out garbled around the spoon in his mouth.

“That Howl was a fetus, Clarence,” Meg retorts. “You don’t know because you’re ignorant.” She snags a piece of raspberry from her brother.

“In his defense, it’s not the most mainstream of movies,” Charlie counters, coming to Castiel’s rescue. “It’s popular in goth culture but it never reached like, Fright Night or The Lost Boy levels of fame.” 

“Thank you,” Cas says, obliged. “But, I haven’t seen the other two either. Meg’s not wrong, I’m hopeless when it comes to pop culture.”

“Then Charlie can give you pointers, she teaches it at our university,” Dean mentions, consuming another mouthful of his ice cream.

“That’s terrifying,” Cas states. “Did you two meet as colleagues?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, we’ve been friends since high school.”

“We met in an English class,” Charlie adds. “And, we both had a crush on our teacher, Ms. Kiper.”

“That’s very gay of you,” Meg chuckles.

Dean breathes out a laugh in response.

“So, why The Hunger?” Castiel asks, shifting in his chair so that he is leaning towards Dean. Under the table, his Converse bumps against Dean’s stockinged toe.

“We chose our favourite evil female vampires,” Dean says. Taking the opportunity, he rests his foot on top of Cas’ shoe. “I won’t give you any details about Miriam in case you watch the movie but it’s mostly because she was very hot and had a whole high society seductress thing going on.”

“And, Dean likes to dress slutty,” Charlie supplies helpfully.

“And, I like to dress slutty,” Dean agrees. He takes off his earrings as they are starting to make his piercings hurt and hands them to Charlie, who puts them in the pocket of her coat.

“I wanted to fuck Spike when I was a teenager,” Cas says, inclining his spoon towards Charlie. “Meg had a vampire phase so we were all made to watch Buffy.”

Charlie beams, swiveling towards Dean, putting a hand on his forearm. “Dean had a vampire fuckbuddy for a while.”

Meg and Cas quirk twin fascinated brows at him, pitching themselves closer in anticipation.

“It’s nothing special,” Dean shrugs, unbothered. “About, uh, four-ish years ago, I was hunting down a coven who had started leaving a string of bodies in Louisiana and it turned out that this guy was going after them too, because they were in his territory. We teamed up and he was, well, he was very charming and not evil so we hooked up a few times over the course of maybe, y’know, two years or so until he started dating another vampire. We’ve kept in touch, actually, I texted him a picture of our costumes tonight.”

Cas extends his leg, making Dean’s foot ride up to his shin. “What did he say?”

“That we look mighty-fine,” Dean says, with a not entirely inaccurate version of Benny’s accent. He puts his other foot on top of Castiel’s shoe, as well. “And that his partner invited me to have a threesome with them if I’m ever in town.” (This is maybe a little bit of a brag but given the context and given he had met Andrea knew what she was like, it is allowed.) 

“Oh, wow, he really is very nonchalant about the weirdest shit, huh,” Meg comments, glancing at Cas.

Dean straightens up, tilting his body towards Charlie. “It’s really not that weird, if you think about it” He defends himself. “They’re basically just humans with like, an extremely specific diet, who also happen to have super-strength and are immortal, that’s all.” He had, over time, developed very strong feelings about the perception of the creatures they fought and their othering by human beings, as if regular people were not equally and more heinous at times.

Meg lets her spoon fall into her now-empty bowl with a clatter. “You know, that’s fair. I take back what I said.” The corners of her mouth wrinkle in an apology which Dean accepts with a blink.

“You’re still a monsterfucker, though,” Charlie jokes, after a second.

“Listen,” Dean whines, going pink. “He had like, an old world rogue appeal and an accent and I’m not immune to either of those things.” He puffs out a half-suppressed chuckle.

Castiel straightens his left leg so that both of Dean’s feet are propped up beneath his knees.

  
  


“Oh, shit!” Velma gasps out at around two-twenty a.m., voice startled as if they have only just become aware of their surroundings. “Shit, I’m so sorry, we lost track of time,” They say, contrite, getting up from their table in a hurry.

Castiel pauses in the middle of his conversation, motioning away their concern with his hand. “Oh, please, it’s absolutely alright, don’t worry,” He replies, offering them a friendly smile. “I’m glad you two had a good time.”

“We really did,” Daphne says, looking at Velma with a fond expression, eyes soft. 

They gather their things and drop a few extra bills on the table.

“Thank you for not kicking us out,” Velma says, stopping at the door, handing a scarf to Daphne. “We’re really sorry for not noticing how late it is.”

“Please, you don’t have to apologise,” Gabriel states, peeking out from around Sam. “It’s no bother at all.”

“Have a great rest of your night,” Meg adds as they exit. 

“We will! You too!” Daphne says at the same time Velma voices a“You guys are really cool!” 

The door closes, leaving the bakery in a hush of quiet for the first time during the night, Gabriel having turned the music off a while ago.

“I don’t think there was a single straight person in here tonight,” Meg comments, sprawling further back in her chair, stretching herself out with a tired sigh.

“Honestly, good for us,” Gabriel declares, prompting a smattering of laughs.

He whispers something in Sam’s ear, receives a nod for it and then comes out from behind the counter, on his way to clean up the remaining dishes. 

“I’m going to go help him,” Meg stirs, as Cas stacks their empty ice cream bowls. “Stay, Cassie,” She adds when he moves to join her. “I’ve got this.”

Cas lets her go with a nod.

Sam, having hopped down from his place on the counter, comes over, receiving a smirk from Meg on the way, and drops in her vacated seat.

“Use condoms,” Dean says before his brother can speak a single word.

“And lube, lots of lube,” Cas adds in a tone of false gravity.

Sam furrows his brow, opening and shutting his mouth awkwardly, squirming around. “That’s that, then,” He finally says. “Gabe wanted to know if you two would be okay with closing by yourselves,” He looks resolutely at his nails, fidgeting, before he gathers up the courage to allow himself a glimpse at Castiel.

He lifts a corner of his mouth up, eyes bright with encouragement, “Yeah, we’ll be fine, don’t worry.” 

Sam returns the smile gratefully. “I’ll, um, come home to change for work,” He says to his brother, the tips of his ears reddening.

Dean pulls a sarcastic face, crinkling one eye shut. “Sure you will, kiddo.”

He is met with a scoff in return. 

“Do you guys have any muffins?” Charlie chimes in, changing the direction of the conversation, surveying the shelves from her vantage point.

Cas follows her line of sight. “There are some banana walnut and chocolate chip ones.”

“Ooh, I’m gonna go get some, then.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sam rises from his chair, leaving his brother and Castiel by themselves.

(It’s not subtle, no one in the room has any idea of what the word even means.)

“The ice cream and whatever Charlie gets don’t count as a part of your apology,” Dean declares when everyone’s out of earshot.

The baker ignores the statement, moving his chair so that he is at right angles to Dean. 

“I’m glad you made it through last night, Egon,” He sneaks a hand under the table and lifts Dean’s leg into his lap, causing the skirt of the dress to fall open.

“Ah, so you’ve seen Ghostbusters,” Dean smirks, shifts so that he is sideways and cants forward, resting a hand on the table. 

( Dean’s done it and had it done to him enough times to know why his companion’s cheeks tint up as blue eyes catch at the curves of his chest.)

“Why can’t I be Venkman?” He whines, purposefully ignoring the way Cas draws in a steadying breath, digging his heel into the denim clad thigh under it.

A thumb runs up his instep, long fingers wrapping around his ankle. “Egon’s objectively cuter.” 

“You have a nerd kink, don’t you?”

“It’s working out in your favour, don’t question it.”

The hand glides higher up, along a shin, tracing a calf muscle, stopping at the knee. 

Dean slips his hand down, sitting it atop Cas’. Carefully, sliding their palms ever so slightly further, he brings them to settle just on the inside of his thigh.

(The warmth of Castiel’s palm seeps in through the thin material, winding its way inside his ribs, making his heart flounder.)

“You’ve got a thing for nylons, too?”

“Mostly because they’re on you.”

Dean blows a breath out through his nose, rolling his eyes with a frisky smile.

“That’s terrible, you’re extremely terrible.”

“And you’re not immune to that either.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Cas’ laugh is luminous, face alight with humour. 

(Dean’s long term memory decides to keep it for safekeeping.)

Dean reaches up to pull the pins holding his hat off, casting it aside on the table, mussing up his slicked back hair, letting them fall in unruly strands. He droops forward, propping his chin on his knuckles. 

“‘Night, children,” Gabriel announces to the bakery at large, fingers twined with Sam’s, tugging him towards the door. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“Have fun getting railed into the next dimension, Sam!” Charlie says, jovially, from beside Meg, a paper bag resting on the counter behind them.

“He will!” Gabriel replies with a smug beam of a smile while Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, squinting. Sam pointedly keeps his eyes fixed outside the window, every uncovered part of him glowing crimson.

“If I hear a single sound, I’m breaking into your room and dousing both of you in ice water,” Meg threatens, without a shred of jest.

“Not making any promises,” Her older brother says, unruffled, already halfway out the door.

“See you tomorrow,” Sam squeaks out, as he is yanked into the night.

“Heaven bless those two but I think I’m hitting my yearly quota for Halloween,” Dean remarks, words lagging with fatigue.

“They’re insane. I feel like I need to sleep for a week to make up for the late nights I’ve been having.” Castiel sounds equally depleted.

“Same, dude. I also have too much sugar in me, I can’t stay upright anymore.”

Cas hums in sympathy, squeezing Dean’s thigh, brushing his pinkie back and forth. 

(Dean’s worn out but his libido makes a valiant effort to join in anyway.)

“One of these days I’m gonna have to hang out with you while the sun’s still out.”

This, in the moment, feels like a plunge, because it always feels like a plunge when the notion of more strikes but Dean had not acknowledged a single thought that scared him since the age of four and so, in a show of spectacular self delusion, he asks, “Do you work every day?”

“Technically I have Thursdays and half of Saturdays off but it’s still too new for me to have a real routine yet.”

(Of course, this is just a casual thing, a fun distraction to engage with for however long it takes for them to fuck each other and get it out of their system.)

“We can do something this weekend if you’re up for it.”

In the Impala the next morning, sans Sam who had, probably for the first time in his life, shut off his alarm and decided to call in sick, Charlie, who had slept over with Dean and was now watching him chew on one of the apology lavender honey macarons Castiel had handed him, along with a kiss pressed to his jaw as they were departing, texts Meg.

**Charlie:**

**i don’t think dean’s realised your brother’s trying to seduce him with carbs**

**Meg:**

**my brother hasn’t realised it either**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> can y'all tell i lost my gender to the plague


End file.
